


Winchester Timline

by faintlyfreckled



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, Pre-Stanford, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faintlyfreckled/pseuds/faintlyfreckled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean's life before Stanford; in timeline form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winchester Timline

Most children say, _mama_ or _dada_ or something to that effect for their first words. Sam Winchester was different. He was just learning to walk, his older brother Dean guiding him when Sam said his first word. "Dee..." Little Sammy cooed, leaving his brother speechless for a split second before a wide grin broke on his face.

"Yeah, good job Sam! That's me... Dean," The elder boy said with pride, already smitten with his half-pint little brother.

* * *

Sam's first day of kindergarten was a big one for the both of them. Dean was put in charge of keeping his little brother safe and Dean took it seriously. Too young for that kind of responsibility. Sam refused to let Dean out of his sight for that whole week, Dean missing his own classes but Dean didn't mind. Finger painting was much more entertaining than arithmetic anyway. When Dad found out, he just laughed, mumbling a _that's my boys_ under his breath. Dean remembers when John was still a father, little Sammy doesn't.

* * *

The first time the two of them ever seriously discussed girls was when Sam was seven. By then, Dean was eleven and had already dipped his toes in the art of wooing a woman. He acted like a smooth operator around his little brother, teaching him all he knew... which was the quickest peck known to man about the lips behind the jungle gym at recess. Even so, Sam was fascinated with the story and could listen to it over and over as Dean tweaked it.

Sam's first crush was Sara Gossamer. Dean molded his brother and taught him just how to win her heart but as it turns out seven year old girls were not the same as eleven year old girls. Neither of them can really remember what Dean had coached Sam to do but Sam wound up with a face full of mud pie and a split lip.

* * *

Twelve was a tricky year for Sam. His body was changing and the growth spurt gave Dean a run for his money. Dean was overall the bulkier one of the two but Sam had him beat in height by a couple inches. Dean liked to poke fun at the cracking voice, Sam being a cliche as far as puberty was concerned. Once the wet dreams started, Dean couldn't control himself from laughing at his brother's expense.

Sam wondered if Dean would still be laughing if he knew Sam had messed his sheets just after having a dream about watching Dean get ready after a hot, steamy shower. The generic white towel always hung loosely around Dean's water slicked body and Sam always woke up disoriented and confused. Yeah, Sam doubted Dean wouldn't get such a laugh out of his embarrassment every morning if he knew.

* * *

The year Sam turned fifteen was a big one for the entire family. They had actually stuck to one spot, one school... long enough for Sam to make new friends. Not feeling like a complete outcast, he managed to scar himself up a date for the annual bonfire and Dean gave his a proud, confident smirk. "That my boy!" Dean had said, clapping his brother on the back roughly after Dean had weaseled it out of his brother in the first place.

When push came to shove, Sam showed up a couple hours later that night, drunker than a skunk alone. Dean smelled him before he was sat down next to him on the couch, Dean watching some old western when Sam made his first move on his brother. It was the same instant he realized he wanted Dean more than just his big brother and his best friend.

Dean allowed the sloppily placed kisses and half assed gropes for nearly an hour before he wiped his brother off and put him to bed. It was the same night Sam planted the seed in Dean's head and Dean spent the next year or so avoiding the subject.

* * *

In that year, Dean wondered if Sam was just messing with him, hopped up on hormones and booze. He'd never ask Sam, not in a million years... but he watched Sam closer than he ever had in that year. Fifteen turned into sixteen as Dean watched, his baby brother not so baby-like anymore.

Nothing too exciting happened during that year that John could recall, but Sam and Dean can. Sam broke his leg and had to rely on Dean all over again like he used to to do simple tasks like shower and and getting dressed. It started out innocent enough. Dean helping his wounded brother like any sibling would but that soon turned into apprehensive hand jobs and sloppy blows.

When Sam got his cast off, the sexual acts didn't stop like Dean had thought. Instead, Sam was returning the favors tenfold. Every chance the younger male got he cornered Dean and repaid his debt. Dean wasn't complaining. He should have but he didn't. He'd started it, after all, and Sam was merely following in his image... right?

* * *

Boston, Massachusetts is a place neither of them will ever forget. Rain water splattering the Impala from all sides, threatening to knock her on her side as they sat in an empty field eating a couple of burgers. Dad was out hunting something vicious, something Dean wanted in on but Sam was still too young in his father's eyes for something this big. For a couple of hours, Dean let the rain damper his mood along with the task of watching out for his brother but when Sam's hand snaked between his legs he found himself not caring about taking down a werewolf.

They moved to the backseat not long thereafter, stripping of every bit of rain soaked clothing they had been wearing and took that last step. The confirmation that Sam and Dean were not only brothers, but lovers. Sam whispered his habitual _I love you_ into Dean's collarbone but it was the first time Dean had ever returned the words in a moment of lust.

Sam's heart soared for a little over a month, replaying Boston in his head in an endless loop with an infectious smile on his face. Sam was happy in a life he thought he couldn't be... and then received his acceptance letter to Stanford.

He knew in another month's time he'd be leaving his brother behind.

It was dark when he took off with everything he own, pressing a kiss to his brother's clammy forehead and not giving his father a second glance. He knew Dean would be pissed when he woke up, but this was the best way. Like a band-aid, quick and painless... Yeah, that's what his argument would be when Dean asked. Well, if Dean ever spoke to him again.


End file.
